


Lady Wensley's Lover

by Dolf241



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, F/M, Facials, Knotting, Missionary Position, Monster sex, Muscles, Open Relationships, Romance, Rough Sex, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolf241/pseuds/Dolf241
Summary: In which Katherine Wensley, an old character I ran in a friend's homebrew DnD campaign, finally consummates the relationship the GM kept dangling under my nose but never quite manifested. This is about as romantic as it gets for me, folks. If you're familiar with LewdCookies' Fornheim Fornications series, this is set in the same universe.Also, this work comes with art! The GM kindly drew Katherine, fully armoured and ready for action:
Relationships: Human/Werewolf
Comments: 1
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

Katherine Wensley looked out upon her domain, and saw that it was good. The wide plaza which stretched out beneath Fort Shieldwall's slab-like keep was a hive of sound and bustling activity. Children laughed and whooped as they darted between colourfully decorated merchant stalls, soldiers practiced their morning drills while labourers hauled heavy crates of food and raw materials freshly-arrived from the homelands into the fortress' yawning stores. Banners atop the crenelated outer walls rippled in the chill northern wind, proudly displaying the heraldry of those families who had come from the old kingdom to make the land of Fornhiem their own.

House Wensley's banner danced among them, its stark insignia of a black sword and golden crown standing out amidst the motley collection of shields and rampant beasts. Katherine smiled at the sight. Once, long ago it seemed, the idea of her family's crest flying above a foreign land would have brought her nothing but disgust. Her ancestors had done terrible things to the natives of the old kingdom; so terrible there were now none left bar the half-breed offspring of those her family and their allies had once taken as slaves. Even she herself was not, in truth, fully human; her bloodline had mixed long ago with the giants of legend, as if her ancestors had greedily sought to steal such strength for their own.

Had it not been for their errant daughter, the same fate might well have fallen upon Fornhiem's inhabitants as well. But the colonisation had gone smoothly; careful diplomacy with the native peoples and bold action against their shared enemies had won the expedition many friends. Katherine stared down into the courtyard, watching in satisfaction as a group of skinny, brightly patterned young lizard-men played with the pale-skinned children running riot. Miyur half-elves broke bread with towering Raudkhlo werewolves as other, even stranger races worked and played alongside the humans who had come to settle in their lands.

Katherine gave a small noise of satisfaction and pulled away from the window. She was an imposing woman; taller and broader across the shoulders than many men, she stood straight-backed and proud, a modest gown of deep purple velvet struggling to conceal the steely muscles she had forged over almost three decades of battle. Her face was tough and square-jawed, handsome rather than beautiful, her carefully braided blonde hair struggling to offset the roughness of her features. But the past few years had softened her, and her grey eyes shone with a warmth which helped put those called before her at ease.

Which, as the Fortress' appointed castellan, was a regular occurrence. Katherine looked over to her desk and the neatly stacked pile of wax-sealed parchments demanding her attention and grimaced. House Wensley might have escaped the darkness of its past, but not the paucity of its numbers or the ruinous depletion of its coffers. She had been putting the business of choosing a husband off for as long as possible, but both her advisors and potential suitors alike were becoming insistent. And they would be wanting an heir next...

She understood the necessity, of course, but it rankled her sense of independence all the same. Katherine glanced around her quarters, searching for something to distract her from the tiresome job of going through the latest pile of missives. The room was richly carpeted and furnished - too rich for an old soldier, she thought briefly, though her return to nobility had brought with it certain standards that had to be maintained. Weapons and trophies from her travels across Fornhiem lined the walls alongside woven tapestries and the vast, polished cabinet holding the enchanted, ebon-bladed greatsword Stríðbrotsjór.

A loud knock caught her attention, followed shortly by the door guard calling "visitor, my Lady!"

Katherine tried to stifle her groan. Another wealthy, thin-blooded parasite trying to butter her up in person, no doubt. "Of course. Did they give a name, Marchus?"

"It's Torja, ma'am."

"Oh, thank the Gods." Katherine's expression brightened. "Send him in, I could use some pleasant company."

The door swung open, allowing the stooped, muscular form of Torja Scarfang to enter. A runt by Raudkhlo standards, the wolfman still stood eye to eye with Katherine, his powerful body covered in a thick coat of grey fur and a few scraps of decorative armour. Braids had been worked into the long mane running down from his proud, wolfish head, threaded with colourful beads and pieces of bone taken from fallen foes. A rough kilt hung around his legs, but couldn't quite hide the excited wagging of his tail as he approached.

"Katherine!" He cried, opening his long arms wide. Katherine laughed and returned the gesture, slapping Torja on the back as they hugged in greeting. "Torja, my friend! It is good to see you again."

"And you, vinir. Too much time spent hiding away behind walls of stone, eh?" Torja punched her playfully in the shoulder as they pulled apart. "Carpets thicker than a pup's fur, fireplace always stoked, no need to hunt your own food? You'll go soft as a faun like this."

Katherine pulled a face. "I'm still strong enough to put you on your backside, sir, so don't get too mouthy." She sighed. "Bah, but you're right all the same. This is my place now, but I still miss the old soldiering days. I don't think I'll ever get used to sleeping on a bed with two layers of pillows. Or answering these bloody letters without swearing."

Torja laughed; a strange, chuffing sound in the back of his throat. "Raudkhlo are lucky. Leave leading for leaders, leave fighting for fighters. Easier for all."

"Oh, I wish things were that simple." Katherine ran a hand through her hair. "Sometimes I wish Payne had made me Captain of the Guard and left it at that. At least that way I'd have an excuse to get out into the field a bit more often. Half the time I have to make judgement calls on matters that I haven't seen first-hand." She frowned. "Letters and reports can only tell so much."

"Ah! Well. Sadly it seems Torja is here to add to your worries." The Raudkhlo opened one of the pouches slung around his hips and pulled out a ragged sheath of parchment. "Hunfar on the move again. Spotted them with my pack, thought to bring wisdom in person." He shook his head and twitched one of his ears. "Stubborn creatures. Not learned from their losses yet."

Katherine took the report. It was written in Fornheim's native tongue, but she had learned enough to deduce the prominent details. The Hunfar had been one of the major challenges facing the expedition in its earliest days. They were a fallen people who had long ago descended into barbarism, too powerful for Fornheim's scattered tribes to quash. But their failed attack on Fort Shieldwall had cost them dearly, and the survivors had retreated to their underground lairs to lick their wounds. Until now, it seemed.

"I don't think they've recovered enough to pose a serious threat, not to the larger settlements at least. We'll double the guards on our convoys and post extra troops to the outlying villages in case they get any ideas." Katherine folded Torja's missive neatly and added it to the stack on her desk. After a moment's thought, she opened one of the lower draws and produced a bottle of crimson liquid and two glasses. "Maybe send word to Lord Vindbraag as well. I'm sure his wildlings would love the excuse to go hunting."

"Hrn. Tricky one, Vindbraag. Unpredictable. As you well know," Torja added pointedly.

"Yes, which is why it's important to do as much as we can to keep him on our side. The Raudkhlo could easily keep the Hunfar in check, but if Vindbraag feels included he's less likely to take offense and start raiding us to make a point." The glasses clinked as Katherine dropped them on the desk and filled them. She slid one over to Torja, who took it with a grateful nod. "I knew a lot of arrogant young nobles like him when I was young. They have to be handled carefully, lest someone bruise their precious egos."

She grimaced and took a fortifying gulp of her drink. It was fine stuff, Katherine supposed, imported at great expense from the vast vinyards of the old kingdom. Torja swallowed his in one mouthful and pulled a face.

"Bah, grape juice too weak for Raudkhlo tastes. Mead is better."

Katherine snorted. "Believe me I'd rather have something stronger as well, but as my advisors continue to say, there's standards that have to be maintained. My esteemed guests get a bit sniffy if they're served anything too rough." She rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the desk, holding the glass under her nose and inhaling the delicate scent. "Probably going to have to marry one sooner or later as well. More's the bloody pity."

She kicked a chair towards Torja with the tip of her foot. It creaked under the wolfman's weight as he collapsed into it, twitching his ears in disapproval.

"This is a thing I have heard. Much speculation going around the castle. Katherine Wensley - great warrior, great leader, soon to be wed! But to who? Some puling whelp, unable to lift a sword in his own defense? Bah." He shook his head and growled.

"Tell me about it. Look at this one." Katherine snatched a letter from the top of the pile and pushed it towards her guest, who snatched it disdainfully. "Poetry! He wrote poetry! I'm not unappreciative of the effort, but really? What does he think I am, some blushing maiden looking to be serenaded? It isn't even good poetry!" She quaffed her drink and threw her arms up into the air. "Gods damn the necessity of political marriage. Sometimes I envy the Raudkhlo womenfolk, I really do. They don't need to worry about this nonsense."

Torja snorted and grinned, his fangs glinting in the light. "Many men for each woman, too. Why choose one, eh? Take all. Sometimes take all at once. Vinir Katherine should try it some time."

Katherine turned away and cleared her throat, feeling a touch of heat coming to her face. The Raudkhlo weren't unattractive, per say; they were a tall people, strong and lean beneath their thick fur, with bright, clever eyes. She knew that some of the female soldiers under her command enjoyed relations with them, and had, during her initial forays into Fornheim's wilderness, even considered it herself. Circumstances at the time, and a sense of propriety after her promotion had prevented it, and she had politely refrained from enquiring deeper.

"Actually, it's funny you mention that," she said, digging under the pile of letters for a moment. "Lina - you remember Lina, yes?"

"Little Miyur girl. Big mouth, light fingers." Torja nodded.

"She handles Fort Shieldwall's, ah, vice. Gambling, narcotics...pleasurable company. A little smuggling. Illegal, technically, but harmless enough so I turn a blind eye. She keeps more cut-throat organisations from getting a hold on these...industries, and occasionally passes me information of use. This landed on my desk a few weeks ago."

Katherine produced a small, cheaply-printed pamphlet and tossed it to Torja, who caught it easily. He peered at the smudged, crooked lettering and crude picture of an armoured woman opposite a rampant wolf stamped on the cover. "The...Lady-Castellan's Lover?" He frowned, wrinkling his nose as he slowly translated each word.

"Apparently, my lovelessness has not gone unnoticed," Katherine remarked airily, topping up her glass and waving it dismissively. "Which fuelled speculation, which in turn fueled these...well, these rather lurid little penny-books. Legal, technically, though I'm of a mind to have a few sharp words with the author if I ever get my hands on him."

Torja leafed through the book. He handled it with almost pantomime care, turning each page slowly and delicately, wary that his great strength and claws would tear it to shreds. His golden eyes narrowed to slits, then suddenly he burst into a great bark of laughter. "Vinir Katherine's subjects have great imaginations, it seems!" He grinned, stamping one of his feet in amusement. "And great taste, to suggest she would choose Raudkhlo lovers over her own people!"

Smirking, Katherine snatched the book back. "Yes, I thought you'd find that amusing. It's a shame their imaginations vastly overshadow their grasp of the written arts. Just listen to this!"

She cleared her throat and stepped back, holding the book out before her in one hand and pressing the other to her chest like a poet at a recital. "'Bye gosh, cried thy kastellan, have I never seen such a thing byfore! Larger bye half than any man of mortall ken, so turgid and red I cannot believe myne eyes! So stark and strynge against thy greysome fur, my loins do turn to heat and eagerness at sight alone!'"

Katherine shook her head in disbelief and dropped the offending pamphlet back onto her desk with a snort of disdain. "Gods, I've heard more stimulating limericks in a soldier's barracks. And they write me like some kind of milkmaid."

"Ah, but correct on one point!" Torja chuckled again, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. "Larger by half? Accurate for Raudkhlo men."

"Oh, please. I've yet to find a man - any man - " Katherine corrected herself, "who doesn't exaggerate these things. You're larger than a human, yes, but your womenfolk aren't. Unless they all walk around bandy-legged I can't imagine it's that much bigger."

Torja leaned forwards, a sudden gleam in his eye. "You suggest Torja lie?" He tutted and shook his head, his tail flicking playfully from side to side. "We vinir, Katherine, we friends. Only truth between vinir. Huntress blesses us with great bodies, great virility, gives our women strength to match. No shame there, no need to lie."

Katherine finished her second glass and raised her eyebrows, a crooked smile on her face. "We are vinir, Torja, which is why I say that when men talk about the portions handed down to them by the Gods, they always exaggerate how much meat and vegetables they were given." She topped off both glasses again. "Half of them probably even believe themselves, so it isn't really a lie. But it's never quite as...fulfilling as they claim."

"Then, Torja prove." The Raudkhlo leaned back in the chair and spread his muscular legs. "Torja show." He caught Kathrine's expression and grinned. "Raudkhlo not shamed of such things. Not prudish like humans. Or perhaps vinir Katherine admit her mistake?"

It took a moment for Katherine to reply; Torja's suggestion had caught her off-guard, leaving her scrabbling for an answer. She wasn't too proud to back down with a courteous apology, but as she reached for the words, they seemed to slip away like sand between her fingers. What came to mind in their place was a very simple question.

What if he wasn't exaggerating?

Sex had never been high on Katherine's list of priorities. Honour, duty, loyalty, integrity; she had been brought up to idolise such things, and the rigerous training regimes that dominated her early life had left little room for philandering. What relationships she had pursued had been brief and, in all honesty, somewhat physically unsatisfying. Most men found her too intimidating to pursue, and those who weren't unnerved by her size or physique could rarely match her for stamina. Eventually she had just given up.

But now, something stirred in Katherine's chest. Her eyes lingered on Torja's broad shoulders and the ropy muscles of his long arms. She had sparred with him often enough and knew the wolfman's strength was the equal of her own. Her gaze travelled lower, noting how his fur became shorter over his tight belly before fluffing out again around his hips, and wondered just how true the dirty little story she had read was.

Katherine shifted unconsciously, crossing her legs as she watched the Raudkhlo carefully over the rim of her glass. She held her silence for a few long heartbeats before finally inclining her head towards him.

"Alright then. Go on, prove me wrong."

Torja's ears pricked up and he grinned, lighting his lupine features up with glee. He unbuckled his kilt and tossed it aside without a show, before slouching back in the chair and spreading his powerful thighs to give Katherine a good look. Amidst the dense tangle of soft, downy fur she spotted the unmistakable shape of the wolfman's balls - which were, she had to admit, sizable - and the bulge of his sheath, with its little pink tip.

She looked up, raising her eyebrows skeptically. "I'm waiting to be impressed."

Torja snorted. "Torja did not know vinir Katherine so impatient. Watch."

The Raudkhlo began to rub back and forth across the visible tip of his cock, almost like a woman might do to pleasure herself, and before Katherine's eyes it began to emerge.

If whoever had written the pamphlet had erred, it had been to underestimate the size rather than overestimate. The thing was far larger than a human man's would be, almost perfectly smooth and glossy-red pattered with thin purple veins. Soon Torja was stiff enough that he could grasp his cock in the palm of his hand. His tongue lolled out and he began to pant, his chest rising and falling and filling the room with a heavy, wet rasp as he stroked himself to his full length. The narrow head twitched eagerly, a drop of white precome already beading at its tip.

"Oh, by the Gods's, that's - " Katherine drew in a sharp breath from shock and hid her face in her hands, turning this way and that to try and conceal her embarrassment. "That's - yes, very well Torja, you've - gosh, is it hot in here?" She shook her head. "But you've more than proved your point, so, you can put it away now - "

Except he can't, Katherine reminded herself, no more than any man can banish his arousal with a thought. And he can hardly just leave in this state, he'll be walking around the castle with it sticking out from under his kilt!

She swore under her breath. Torja was still leaning back in his chair, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his lips drawn back over his wolfish fangs in an expression that could only have been called smug. Katherine tried to look him in the eye, failed, tried to avoid looking at the swollen, turgid shaft rising up from its sheath of fur, failed, and eventually forced herself to stare at a point somewhere over the Raudkhlo's left shoulder.

There was an awkward silence. Katherine could feel herself blushing. Her dress felt terribly hot, the velvet hanging off her like a lead coat. Beads of sweat crept between her shoulder blades.

"Well," she said eventually. "That is indeed a very impressive manhood. Whoever wrote that little story must have had some first-hand experience."

"Vinir Katherine like?"

There was a note of invitation in Torja's voice. Katherine glanced at him, then back at the pile of missives from her suitors. Only a handful would be from men she respected, brave and resourceful warriors who sadly lacked the resources she needed to restore House Wensley's ailing fortunes. Duty would force her to choose someone else. One of the weak-willed noblemen come to play at being an adventurer in the New World now that the most pressing dangers had been pacified, no doubt. And who would likely take a dim view of her maintaining a lover on the side.

She looked at Torja again, drinking in the patterns of old scars that crisscrossed his powerful body. Her stomach clenched as long-denied urges began to stir once more, the blush upon her fair features spreading down across the proud expanse of her cleavage as her propriety melted away.

Katherine breezed past the wolfman and opened the door a crack. Her guard turned, an expression of surprise on his unshaven face, but she interrupted before he could speak.

"Marchus, Torja and I have something of import to discuss. We may be a while, and I will be quite safe in his presence. You can consider yourself relieved of duty for the remainder of your shift." The man opened his mouth, only to be cut off again. "No, don't argue. Be somewhere else for the next few hours and inform the servants I am not to be disturbed. Consider it an order if you have to."

She closed the door and took a breath to steady herself. Then, without a word, she unlaced her gown, shrugged it off and turned back to Torja.

"Oh, I do like. I like very much."

Katherine's body was as toned and powerful as Torja's; the statuesque form gifted by her hybrid lineage had only been honed and strengthened by a lifetime of warfare. Her arms were as thick as a man's thighs, her thighs strong enough to crush that man's head like a walnut. Even the curve of her hip and swell of her bust were prodigous in size, and the old scars which marred Katherine's fair skin seemed to accentuate her heroic physique rather than detract from it. And though Katherine had always prided herself on function over form, she was absurdly pleased to see Torja's rigid cock jump in approval as he feasted his yellow eyes upon her nakedness.

The wolfman let out a long, rumbling breath. "Hrn. Like a warrior-goddess from the old stories," he murmured, rising and wrapping his long arms around the woman. "Wanted this for a long time, vinir. Hungered for it. Dreamed of it."

"And what are you going to do now that you have it?" Katherine asked as she returned the gesture, running her hands through the long hair on Torja's back and pulling the Raudkhlo in close to kiss. His musky scent filled her nostrils; deep and earthy, old leaves and fresh sweat, raw with animal potency. Fur tickled across her breasts and belly and beyond. Claws dimpled her skin, sharp pricks against the smothering wall of sensation as they embraced. Their lips met awkwardly, the gesture devolving into an affectionate lick across her cheek.

"Can think of a few things," Torja muttered. He lapped her again. His tongue was longer than a man's hand and almost as wide, rough and hot and slippery against her skin. He moved down further, burying his snout between Katherine's neck and her hair, alternating between hungry licks and soft, playful bites that set her trembling with excitement.

Katherine moaned softly and rolled her shoulders back, leaning into his caresses. "Oh, I'd forgotten how good this could be," she murmured, drawing a small bark of surprise from the wolfman.

"Have been with Raudkhlo before?" Torja asked, a faint note of hurt in his voice. Katherine snorted.

"No, how good it could be with anyone," she replied, catching his muzzle in one hand and gently pulling him away from her neck. "Never had the time, never had the...inclination. Until now, at least." He whined sadly until she pushed him lower. "But if you're going to mark me, don't do it anywhere people might see. They'll talk."

Torja's growl of complaint melted into a deep rumble of appreciation as Katherine pushed him down towards her heaving bust. She gasped as he nosed between her breasts, his hot breath tickling over their inside curves before running a long, indulgent lick down the valley which lay between them. 

Katherine swore under her breath. Torja licked her again, bumping the cool point of his nose against her hot skin, making her jump and gasp in surprise. She had never thought the Raudkhlo would be so considerate, so worshipful; their society was matriarchal, yes, but their males were warriors first and foremost. Or so she had assumed. Apparently, she noted dizzily, their women made quite sure the men had their priorities straight after all.

Finally his hands found her breasts. Torja cradled each heavy mound in his calloused palms, gripping them softly as he appreciated their weight, their old scars and the light dusting of freckles which crowned them. And then he licked, dragging his tongue from the bottom to the top and back again. Katherine bit down on her knuckles and moaned, strangling the sound as best she could through her rising desire. Each motion steered masterfully around her stiff nipples, leaving the sensitive buds to ache and tremble, desperate for relief.

When relief did come, it caught her by surprise. It was the faintest of nips, yet it cut through her like a razor. Katherine cried out in pleasure as Torja's fangs closed on her bud, teasing her with the tiniest mote of bladed pressure before soothing it with a lick and moving to the other. She had never counted her breasts as the most sensitive part of her body, yet as the Raudkhlo repeated himself upon the second, she felt her legs trembling and the first pulses of arousal growing her her belly.

Katherine squirmed under his touch, desperate for more. It was something Torja was only too happy to provide. No longer restraining himself, he lapped, kneaded and nibbled with gusto, assaulting her with a barrage of sensations that made the warrior's head spin and chest heave with exertion. It was only when she felt Torja traveling lower and lower, following a particularly long scar from a blow which had almost opened her from sternum to navel, that she roused herself from the haze that had fallen upon her. 

"You want to taste me?" Katherine asked. The desk creaked under the weight of her powerful body as she leaned back, her legs sighing open as Torja ran his rough tongue over her toned stomach.

He grunted something Katherine took to be an affirmative. "And I didn't even have to ask, either. You know, I could lose half the fingers on my good hand and I could still use it to count all the men I've met who've been so generous."

"Vinir Katherine wasted on them. Torja only runt, overlooked by Raudkhlo women, but popular with Geithrnjota and Bletressongrar. Torja show why, eh?" He let out a short, barking laugh and looked up at her. "Make up for lost time, no?"

His response prompted a lopsided grin in return. Katherine had seen the wolfman hanging around with the fauns and dryads who visited the Fortress before; now she knew why. "I'd call you out on that boast, my friend, but I think that would be the second bet I'd lose today." She said, placing a hand on top of his head and pushed him down between her thighs. "So I'll hold my tongue and let you use y - aaaaah!"

What she had felt on her bust was like nothing compared to the effects of the first lick along her folds. She was already slick and flushed with arousal, and Torja's attentions had left her panting lightly with need. The Raudkhlo easily parted her lips with his tongue and dipped into the soft, inviting space beyond, caressing the tenderness there before flicking up against the hard little bead of her clit

Katherine threw her head back and let out another moan, this one refusing to be stifled. She clutched onto the edge of the table with one hand and bunched her fingers deep into Torja's mane with the other, mashing his snout deeper into her sex. Obediently he licked again, exploring her folds, savouring the human's taste and the noises of pleasure she made in response. Her thighs tightened around his elongated head, knees resting on his shoulders, toes awkwardly stroking through the fur on his broad chest.

It was divine. Unselfish. Torja caressed her with total adoration, alternating between soft, puppyish laps at her clit and deep strokes into her passage. Fangs nipped at her skin, bright sparks of pain-pleasure that danced through Katherine's body like lightning, dragging her back to reality whenever the growing wave of ecstasy threatened to sweep her away. She could feel herself beginning to twitch and spasm and ground down harder onto the wolfman's mouth, almost fucking his tongue in search of the relief she craved.

"Torja," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Torja, don't stop. I'm close. By the Gods, I'm close."

Whatever the Raudkho's muffled reply was, he lapped harder, driving his tongue into Katherine's trembling passage with long, sweeping strokes. Strings of wetness and arousal trickled down Katherine's muscular thighs and soaked the carpet beneath them as she rocked back and forth, hungrily eking out every morsel of pleasure she could from the wolfman's slobbering tongue. She was burning, heaving, shaking so violently she was afraid she would fall apart, every fibre of her being exulting in the pleasure it had been denied for so long.

Katherine's heavy pants became moans, and then cries, and then, with one final bellow of release, she came. The world went black and white and for a few beautiful seconds ceased to be entirely, washed away on a tide of ringing ecstasy. Torja barked in surprise as Katherine spasmed around him, her legs clenching even tighter around his head as she rocked back and forth, trembling and gushing arousal into his mouth. He sucked in fractions of breath at a time, each whooping exhalation blowing over Katherine's aching flesh and dragging her climax on further.

Finally, the pressure relented. Torja fell backwards with a heavy thump as Katherine collapsed over her desk with a contented sigh, scattering the pile of missives from her admirers everywhere. Silence reigned, broken only by their heaving breathing, until Torja spoke.

"Vinir Katherine may want to warn next time," he said, wincing and rubbing his neck. "If Torja knew he would almost have neck broken, Torja might have been less eager to taste vinir Katherine."

Katherine pulled herself upright with a groan. One of her braids had come out and her hair had fallen loose, hanging half over her face in a dirty blonde curtain. She was flushed and sweating, her eyes dilated with arousal, a dizzy grin lighting her rough features up like a beacon.

"Yes, I - oh, blazes, I did get rather carried away, didn't I?" She gave Torja an apologetic look as she fussed with her hair, trying to push it back into shape.. "Sorry, it's - it's been a while is all, and I didn't expect it to be that good. Gods above, I thought I was going to rip myself in half for a moment there." A thought occurred, and her face fell. "Half the fortress probably heard that, didn't they?"

Torja grinned as only a wolf could. "So?"

"Well, it's - I mean there's expectations of a woman in my position. We have to conduct ourselves with an element of decorum and restraint."

"Torja thinks vinir Katherine not suited for these things. Duty, yes, leadership, yes. Funny dresses? Meek husbands? No, no. Decorum and restraint? Once again, no."

The Raudkhlo stood up and cupped Katherine's chin in one hand, tipping her face up to meet his eyes. "Torja think Katherine take him as life-mate. One warrior with another, tie together in might and strength. Show strength of bond with Fornhiem peoples, strength of unity against others."

Katherine winced inside. She cared deeply for Torja - he was a friend, probably the first she had made among Fornheim's peoples. But he was simple and straightforwards, with few concerns beyond protecting his people. Had he been born in the old world he would have been a knight, good and respectable in every way, and she would have been honoured to be wed to him. But she had come to Fornhiem and made herself a queen, or something very much like it, and her own desires had to be put aside in favour of the state.

But then again, she thought, this wasn't the old world. This was Fornhiem, and many of the godlings and warlords who ruled here did so with a virtual harem of husbands and wives behind them. Who was to say she couldn't marry two people? Or three? Who, exactly, was going to stop her? Oh, the traditionalists among the expedition would disapprove, and she was quite sure some would be moved to try and replace her with someone more to their liking. But that was a bridge she would cross when the time came. And possibly one she would burn behind her.

She grinned again, throwing an arm around the Raudkhlo's neck and dragging him in until their foreheads met. "I think that sounds wonderful, vinir, but it's a matter for another day. Right now, I'm going to take you through to my bedroom, and you're going to make love to me with that beautiful cock of yours until neither of us can walk straight."

Torja's face lit up with delight. His tail lashed in excitement as Katherine hopped down from the table and beckoned him to follow, leading the hulking werewolf through to her sleeping quarters. Away from prying eyes, Katherine had seen fit to let a little more of herself shape the room's decor. The cold grey stone of the fortress walls was more in evidence, the wall-hangings given over to racks of functional weapons. The bed stood alone as the last bastion of opulence, its beautifully carved frame piled high with silk sheets and hanging curtains of red and violet.

For months Katherine had been trying to get rid of the thing for something more practical; she slept better on hard surfaces, and only the fact the bed wouldn't fit through the door had saved it. Now, as she pushed the curtains aside and lay down upon the gossamer sheets, leading the Raudkhlo on with a crooked finger, she was strangely glad the four-posted monstrosity had remained. Something about the sight of Torja's hairy body slipping through the drapes and crawling up the bed towards her, his eyes alight with desire and his swollen cock twitching in anticipation, set a fire in her like nothing she had ever imagined.

The bed creaked and sagged an inch. Torja stopped, glancing back in the direction of the sound. Katherine snorted and kicked him gently with her heel.

"If it breaks, it breaks. Come on, stop wasting time."

"One second, vinir," Torja rumbled. He stopped halfway up the human's body, looming over her with an expression of wonder on his lupine face. Katherine felt his eyes roving over her, drinking in the sight of her naked body; her strength, her scars, all the things which had made her feel awkward and unsexy and unfeminine throughout her life. He saw them and he found them beautiful, and the realisation of that was like lightning down her spine. Katherine tugged her hastily rearranged hair out of shape and shook her head, letting it fall freely around her statuesque features. Torja growled his approval and resumed his advance, creeping higher and closer until his cock brushed against the crook of her thigh.

Katherine's hands knotted through the Raudkhlo's thick fur and stroked over the rigid muscles beneath. Her head spun, dizzy with the strength she felt in him, the strength of an equal. Pulling him closer, she craned up until her lips were level with his pointed ear, and whispered three husky words:

"Mate with me."

His tip caught her entrance, thin and pointed yet somehow almost as large as a normal man's head. Katherine let out a low hiss as it scraped along her folds, a great, hairy palm sliding beneath her and guiding her hips into position beneath him. There was no awkwardness, no clumsy jockeying for position; as bestial as Torja appeared, he wore the form of a man and their bodies moved together as if born to do so, his swollen, canine prick parting her aching lips and easing into the passage beyond.

Her groan was volcanic. The sensation was beyond compare. For the first time she felt truly stretched, truly filled, her walls straining to contain Torja's massive organ as it thrust into her core. Torja hilted himself and paused, his furry crotch flush against Katherine's steely thighs, his claws digging gently into her taught hindquarters. Katherine grinned and rolled her hips, a low groan escaping her throat as she felt the wolfman throbbing powerfully inside her.

She felt his need. His lust. His desire.

For her. Alone.

Katherine's hands found the sides of Torja's head. She stroked his muzzle, kissed the tip of his nose and pulled him forwards once more until their foreheads met and their eyes locked. Neither blinked as the Raudkhlo began to thrust, slowly pistoning into the human woman's eager body. Their breathing grew heavy together, the air filling with the scent of his musk and her faint perfume. Katherine's legs tightened around Torja's hips just as her slick walls clenched down around his cock, making him grunt with exertion and forcing him to thrust harder and deeper in search of the relief he craved.

"Vinir Katherine strong. Vinir Katherine worthy," he rasped, finally breaking their gaze to lap hungrily along her shoulder. Fur brushed along her steely belly and across her breasts, teasing and tickling against the heavy bow-wave of pleasure each stroke left in its wake. "Vinir Katherine so tight, feel so very good. Torja be good for her."

"Oh, it's good. It's good. But you can stop treating me like one of your Geithrnjota fauns. I'm not going to break," Katherine panted by way of reply. She bucked against him, pushing herself fiercely onto his prick as he fucked her. "I want to feel you, all of you. Go harder. Go deeper."

Torja's strange, chuffing laugh sounded in her ear. "Torja also strong," he growled. The sound echoed through her like the retort of a canon, so deep and powerful it sent a shiver of goosebumps across her scarred skin. "Torja show."

The next thrust was short, spiky; the wolfman threw every ounce of his athletic body into it, and was rewarded with a throaty cry as Katherine arched her back, grinding against his hairy body and squeezing him tighter inside. The next followed, and the next, each harder and more forceful than the last. The Raudkhlo's feral instincts sensed the presence of a willing mate just as strong as he was and drove him into a desperate, rutting frenzy. His lips drew back, strings of saliva rolling from his glistening fangs and dripping down Katherine's face and neck, even as his claws raked pale lines across her skin and dug into the priceless silk beneath them. 

There was pain, of course. But Katherine had never shied from pain. On the battlefield pain meant you were alive, and in the bedroom it set her nerves alight, heightening the storm of sensations which flowed from head to toe. Her sex ached, stretched and pummeled by Torja's wolfish cock. His claws bit and pinched. But she took it all, demanded it all, hungry to finally test herself against a partner who could match her stamina.

Moans escalated to cries. Growls became snarls. They strained against each other, muscle against muscle, each seeing to wring as much pleasure from their partner as they could. Katherine would demand "more", "faster", "harder", and each time Torja would summon up some extra mote of strength and give it to her. Soon their embrace broke as Torja reared up, looming over the prone woman until she was bent almost double, her legs kicking air ecstatically as he piled into her from above. She came - once, twice, perhaps three times, each climax striking like a blow from a warhammer, sending her reeling until her monstrous lover dragged her back to her senses.

She could swear he was getting bigger as well. Katherine had grown used to the feeling of him inside her, yet the tightness in her nethers had not abated. There was something battering against her lips as well, something tough and hard and hot.

"Want to - want to knot you - " Torja growled. His frenzy had abated, and now his eyes were narrowed with the effort of maintaining his pace. Every so often a thrust would come erratically, throwing off the rhythmic slap of his body against hers. "Want to - tie, fill - fill you deep - "

Katherine had only vague ideas of what this meant. One of her childhood friends had reared dogs as a hobby, and she dimly remembered the girl explaining how funny it was that a male would lodge himself inside the female before breeding her. But those were just - facts, snippets of information, cold and meaningless. She growled deep in her throat.

"If you want to do it, vinir, do it. Give me everything."

And then she was - flipped, the world fading into a flurry of colour as Torja flipped her over. Katherine landed awkwardly on her hands and knees, her hair hanging over her face like a veil of old straw, the Raudkhlo pressing down on her from above. One of his long arms wrapped around her midriff, holding her tight as he redoubled his efforts, the other digging deep into the ruined sheets for purchase.

Doggy style, Katherine thought distantly, and laughed throatily. How apt. Her arms shook, tendons bulging as she stoically bore the huge warrior's weight atop her, but they held. There was a part of her that missed seeing him before her, missed the sight of him rising up between her legs, his muscles tense and tongue lolling hungrily, but she soon found he could push even deeper into her this way. Strangled gasps of pleasure tore from her throat. He was so hot, so hard, so fierce and vital inside her, his strength bleeding into hers and back again.

The pressure against her entrance became stronger. Torja wasn't thrusting any more - he was pushing, grinding into her, trying to force something into her straining, over-filled sex. Katherine snarled, as far beyond words as the Raudkhlo was, and pushed back, as eager to prove she could accept whatever Torja had as he was to give it.

A massive tongue lapped along the back of her head. Hot breath hissed over her shoulders. Fangs scraped her neck. Torja's hips snapped forwards, and the shock of his knot striking her tingling, singing lips almost drove Katherine face-first into the sheets. Her toes curled in delight. She squeezed and throbbed and twitched around him.

Torja jabbed forwards again and this time something gave. Katherine screamed as a razor-sharp jolt crashed through her, as much pain as pleasure. Her lips were roughly forced apart. Something - like a bulge, or a fist, something tough and sinewy and impossibly huge - squeezed inside, giving Katherine only a moment to appreciate what had happened before her sex greedily snapped close around its prize.

She let out a long, thin, trembling sound. She felt bloated, packed so full she could barely breath, like the time she had drunkenly allowed a man to take her up the rear but so, so much more. Every little motion set of a cascade of sharp, needling sensations as something tugged against her lips and hair dragged against her clit. It was sickly, queasy. Her head spun.  
"Torja, what - " she gasped. "What did you just do?"

"Knotted. Tied. Holy thing, sacred. Only for most worthy mates, only those strong enough to take it." The Raudkhlo's voice was as strained as hers. He rocked back and forth, rutting hopelessly against the woman's prone body. "Vinir Katherine looked beautiful. Next time, do it face to face. Want to see you. See you face, see you spread around me." He let out a choked sound of pleasure. "But first time is easier this way."

Katherine tried to relax, forcing herself to focus on her breathing. Torja hugged her close, stroking one of her heavy breasts in his palm as he moved slowly against her. The sickly feeling began to fade, leaving in its wake a warm, turgid weight in her core and wonderful sense of closeness. Trusting the Raudkhlo to hold her upright, she groped between her legs and found a chord of sinew leading into her sex and the upper surface of his knot, buried tight between her aching lips.

"You come like this, right? Into the fem - into your partner?"

Torja grunted. "Soon. Coming soon. Coming - "

The sentance devolved into a wordless, animal snarl. His cock jerked and Katherine felt the first splashes of his seed coating her insides. It was hot, hotter than she was used to, and she moaned in gentle satisfaction at the sensation of him swirling and lapping against her walls. It went on and on, her wolfish partner rocking back and forth, his cock throbbing and spurting until Katherine felt it bubbling along her aching lips and dripping down her thighs in long, thin streams. Her fingers found her clit and there, lubricated by the mess of her own arousal and Torja's lupine come, she painstakingly nursed one final climax from her straining body.

Eventually, Torja's strength gave out. He sagged to one side with a groan of exhaustion, pulling Katherine down with him into a clammy, breathless embrace atop the ruined, stained sheets. A slow trickle of pearly seed leaked from the site of their union. She could only imagine how much would be released when the Raudkhlo's knot finally slipped free.

"Well, that was...a long time coming," Katherine sighed. She rested her head on Torja's broad chest, breathing slowly and deeply. "But very welcome. Thank you, vinir."

"No, Torja thank. Find good mate. Worthy mate, one Torja not have to worry about breaking."

Katherine snorted. "Wonderful. So. How long do we have to wait before this - before your knot, I mean - before it un-ties?"

"Mmm. Can be some time. Half-hour by human clocks, perhaps. Good time to talk. Enjoy company."

"Work out how we're going to explain the state of these sheets to the maids?"

Torja laughed. "That also."

\---

Like a favoured courtesan ruined by too many gifts, Fort Shieldwall was already starting to burst its corsets. A sprawling shantytown had sprung up outside the fortress walls, home to hundreds of men and women, natives and settlers alike, all claiming to have business within the looming castle. It had not yet been officially recognised by the Fortress' authorities, and thus had unfortunately degenerated into a hotbed of crime which caused no end of trouble for the legitimate merchants and couriers who had to pass through its twisting, shadowed streets.

It also served as an excellent place for clandestine meetings, as Katherine was learning to her distaste.

"What do you mean, you wrote it?" She snapped, crossing her arms and staring balefully down at the pale slip of a girl opposite her. Lina stood half-hidden under a sagging awl, the broad-brimmed hat she typically wore keeping the drizzle off her narrow shoulders.

"I didn't write it. Not technically, anyway! I dictated. Bits. Other people wrote the bulk of it." The Miyur waved a hand dismissively. "Look, Katherine, no offense but you're not exactly the most...uh, how should I put it? The most skilled when it comes to affairs of the heart? The big furball had been giving you signals ever since you first met."

"In retrospect, yes, but it's still not - "

"What?" Lina rolled her eyes. "Not appropriate? Kath, look at me." She tipped the brim of her hat up, fixing Katherine with a slightly pitying look. "Nobody cares. Half the expedition crew went native within a month of landing here. Gideon and Douman had copped off with Vindbraag's wildlings almost as soon as we met them."

She tapped Katherine's breastplate, flicking a crumb of dirt off the polished black steel. "The only person saying you can't have a bit of fun is you. So I decided to help you out. Man, I can't believe you actually showed Torja the book though - it was just supposed to put the idea in your head!"

Katherine's glower remained unchanged, though the tight, angry line of her jaw softened a little. "Well. Be that as it may, and given things worked out as they did, I'm not inclined to take the issue further. But I don't like the idea of people...meddling with my sex life."

Lina burst out laughing. "You didn't have a sex life to meddle with, that's the point! But now that you do," the Miyur took an elegant step backwards. "You have my utmost promise that I won't meddle with it from now on. Okay? We're still good?"

"Good enough. Just promise me one thing."

Lina quirked an eyebrow. Katherine leaned closer, a lopsided smirk on her face.

"If these stupid books start selling, I'm claiming royalties."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced to attend a stifling formal ball thrown by Fort Shieldwall's newly-minted nobility, Katherine sneaks away with Torja for a little relief.

Katherine had always hated balls. She hated the frippery and waste, the shallow conversation that flitted desperately away from any topic of real substance, the passionless, clockwork formality of the dances. Even as a child they had felt like a waste of time, an imposition which tore her away from her happy days of study and nights spent play-fighting with boys. As a young adult it had been worse - she had watched, frustrated and uncomfortable, from the corner as her family pissed away their last few coins desperately trying to convince their peers that House Wensley was still a force to be reckoned with. Her military career, as disastrous as it had been in the end, had provided a reprieve; her voyage to Fornhiem seemed to have laid the matter to rest for good.

And thus the knowledge that Fort Shieldwall had been built with a ballroom had come as a sudden and extremely unpleasant surprise. That her role as the fortress' Castellan required her to attend them was only even more so.

Thus Katherine found herself, a towering, rough-hewn statue of a woman, taller than most of her guests and strong enough to break the worst of them over her knee, watching in distaste as the worst of the old kingdom crept insidiously into the new land she had built. Clad in a long gown of royal purple that utterly failed to disguise her brawny physique and wearing a simple iron diadem on her brow, she felt felt as awkward and out of place as she had at the parties of her youth.

"Try to relax, dear. You're grimacing again."

Katherine grunted and tried to make her smile into something more natural. Her husband Marius shot her a patient look and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Around them, the supposed great and good of Fort Shieldwall and its surrounding territories picked their way through the final stages of The Western Marchers, the men spinning their chosen partners around like tops before the music ceased, signalling a mass retreat back to the opposite wall.

Only a slim majority of the guests were human. There were almost as many dainty Miyur in attendance, along with the occasional lumpen form of a dwarf grimly representing the colonial enterprise's military wing. Here and there the larger, stranger shapes of Fornhiem's native races could be seen moving through the crowds; delicate, faun-like Geithrnjota, the aquatic Djusynir serpents, hulking lupine Raudkhlo. The latter particularly drew Katherine's attention, and she felt her expression soften as she caught sight of Torja standing across the hall, surrounded by a crowd of twittering Fornhiem nobility.

"Poor bugger," Marius said, following Katherine's eye. "I heard about what happened with those Hunfar savages. They'll be pestering him all night now, hoping for some little war story they can regurgitate as if they were there in person."

Marius was, in many ways, the polar opposite of his wife. Below average in height, fussily dressed and sporting a pronounced widow's peak, he stood only as tall as her shoulder and bore the kind of soft, heavy body unique to those blessed by a life of luxury. Katherine had seen pictures of the man in his youth - he had been quite the rake then, with quick, clever eyes and hawkish features. Six months in Fornhiem had already stripped some of the weight from his frame, and she was confident in another four he would be fit enough to replace the decorative sword hanging from his belt with a real one.

He had been a merchant in his past life, earning his fortune and a cast-iron reputation for fairness and decency along the desert trade routes of the old kingdom. That reputation had seen him brought low by a conspiracy of his rivals, and he had been forced to flee across the sea to seek refuge. But it had also brought him to Katherine's attention. As the last of a ruined House, she had power and influence but precious few resources to support them with; Marius had wealth in abundance but, without the backing of a larger political force, no way to make an impact upon the new world's burgeoning economy. 

They both knew the relationship was one of necessity and respect rather than love, but it worked. Katherine would have been happy enough to find a husband who wasn't a complete waste of space, but Marius was both competent and principled, and had happily stepped in to handle the administrative functions her title necessitated. That he had been willing to take her surname had only raised her estimation of the man further, something Katherine had made very clear to him on their wedding night. 

"It's like watching a warhorse trying to rid itself of flies," Katherine sighed. She couldn't make out what the Raudkhlo was saying, but his ears were pinned back in frustration, and she could see his clawed hands curling into fists as the mob's questions grew ever-more invasive. "Shall we go and rescue him?"

"I suppose it would be the decent thing to do. Perhaps I can distract them with news of how business is going with the Djusynir? That fellow there, Doublaunt, has been trying to establish a rapport with them for some time." Marius leaned closer, rising up on his tip-toes to whisper in Katherine's ear. "Privately I think he just has a thing for fish, if you get my meaning."

Katherine let out a short snort of laughter. "Well, good luck to him. The last man who made a pass at one of their women got eaten. But yes, lets. If we're lucky we can persuade him to stay out the night. Gods know it'd be nice to have another man around here who can make decent conversation."

"Were it not for Gideon's departure, I might take that personally," Marius added with a raised eyebrow as they set off across the hall. Though it was far from the grandest ballroom either had stepped foot in - Fort Shieldwall was, after all, a military installation first and foremost - the opulence on display still turned Katherine's stomach. Hard granite walls were softened by sweeping columns of polished marble, chased with gold and engraved with emblems of those noble houses responsible for funding the first expedition ships. Cold light shone through the grand windows which dominated the southern wall, through which the haunting beauty of Fornhiem's barren landscape rolled off into eternity.

Try as she might, Katherine found her eye being drawn back to those windows again and again. Some of the best years of her life had been spent marching across that broken landscape, nourished by honest strife and worthy companions, and with every face which leered out of the crowd demanding a moment of her time she felt her mood grow steadily darker. Even Marius' reassuring hand on her arm felt like an imposition rather than a comfort; another chain binding her to the soft, hollow life she now found herself floundering in.

"Vinir!"

Katherine blinked and looked up, her black mood evaporating like mist being burned away by the sun. Torja brushed aside the squabbling nobles and rushed forward to throw his hairy arms around her shoulders, crushing her against his chest in greeting. She laughed joyously, ignoring the scandalised cries of the men the Raudkhlo had scattered in his wake, and returned the brutal hug until Torja pulled away and brushed his forehead tenderly against hers.

"It is good to see you, vinir. Torja knew you would be here, but for a moment he thought you would be too busy to see him. He has been answering the questions of these, these..."

The Raudkhlo turned, ears twitching, lips momentarily drawing back from his fangs as Marius fussed around the fallen nobles. He was as always a striking figure, handsome as only a wolf could be, his eyes bright and piercing, the crest of thick hair which framed his long face braided with colourful beads and precious stones. Of all the guests present, Torja was one of the few tall enough to look Shieldwall's towering Castellan in the eye, and the only one with a body as muscled and scarred as her own.

"These...fine people," Torja finished lamely. "Who ask so much, yet listen only rarely to his answers." 

Katherine glanced away, hiding a smirk behind her hand. "That's one word for them," she muttered under her breath. Torja laughed his strange, huffing laugh and shook his head.

"But we have been listening!" one protested, brushing aside Marius' pleas for calm. "You're just not telling us what we want to know!"

"Yes! We want to know what it's like to fight heathens!" another cut in. "To win honour and glory on the battlefield, that sort of thing! We don't want these, these...these stories of...blood and horror!"

He pointed at Katherine. "You used to be a soldier, Castellan. Surely you understand?"

Katherine understood all too well. As did Marius, who, more to the point, knew how badly his wife reacted to such sentiments. Taking a step back from the men, he caught his wife's eye and made a desperate, placating gesture, even as Torja bared his fangs in amusement and leaned forwards to watch the fireworks.

As much as they irritated her, most of Fornhiem's upper classes were fundamentally harmless. They locked themselves away in the Fortress' more comfortable towers, doing whatever it was rich, stupid people did to amuse themselves all day and only venturing out when a social function was due to be held. Occasionally one would get it into his head to venture out into the wilds and have to be rescued, and there was the odd scandal whenever some wealthy heiress took a shine to one of the native boys, but for the most part they were just there. Like an unsightly stain on the wall one tried to avoid looking at.

But the second and third waves of immigrants had brought something worse. They had been led by rich, spoiled children, fattened on stories of how their ancestors had brought civilisation to the old kingdom and sent out to do the same to the new. No matter those ancient wars had been waged as campaigns of rape and genocide, and that the elves, dwarves and giants who suffered at their ancestor's hands now only existed as watered-down, demi-human bloodlines. No matter the worst conflicts in the new world had already been resolved with words rather than swords, and Fornhiem's natives now lived, worked and loved alongside their human neighbours in relative peace. They wanted their war, and they wouldn't shut up about it.

"I understand - Laskey, was it?" Katherine's eyes narrowed as she fought to recall the man's name. "I understand that one has to wade through a great deal of blood and witness a great deal of horror in order to find the honour and glory you seem so fond of." Her voice was low and hard, and her grey eyes shone like flint as she spoke. "Perhaps if you had been with us from the start, you might have found a little of both."

She considered the man for a moment. Laskey was already cringing under her stern gaze, desperate for a way out of the conversation but duty-bound to defend the insult towards his courage. The moment he opened his mouth, though, Katherine denied him even that, turning away with a dismissive snort and casting a meaningful look at her husband.

"Marius, dear, please take these men and find them something to drink. I will smooth things over with our guest; it would be unfortunate if the Raudkhlo diplomat took offence over this blunder."

Without missing a beat she linked arms with Torja and strode away. The Raudkhlo grunted scornfully and flicked his tail as they walked, the beads woven into his long fur clicking with every step. As soon as they were out of earshot Torja pulled himself closer, letting Katherine feel his reassuring bulk walking step by step beside her.

"Do not worry, vinir, Torja took no offence. These whelps only dishonour themselves with their bleating."

"I know, my friend, but it gave me a good excuse to get away from them. Bah." She sighed irritably. "Maybe the little worms would abandon this foolishness if I shoved a few of them out into a proper battle."

Her companion laughed and grinned, evidently relishing the thought. "At least there would be fewer of them to return, eh? But, no, Torja has seen their ilk before. Weak and scheming, like the Djusynir. Eager to take charge, but not so eager to take the blame. They learn nothing."

The Raudklo flicked his ears. "But enough of that. Vinir Katherine is well, yes? Still strong enough to carry weight of her crown?"

Katherine ran a finger around the edge of the iron diadem, feeling the embossed crest that sat at her forehead. "Strong enough. Things are...quiet, I suppose. There's always one thing or another that needs to be dealt with, but it's never anything crucial. Never anything that feels like it would spiral out of control if I wasn't here." She waved a hand dismissively. "Marius handles the administrative side of things, so I have more time to myself. Would that I had more things to fill it with, mind."

Torja's reply came as a deep, throaty whisper, rasped softly into her ear. "Torja thinks felgi Katherine could find many things to fill her time with, if she tried." One of his hands slipped lower, a long claw tracing the curve of her spine, and Katherine felt her breath catch at the sudden contact. "Torja might even have some suggestions of his own. He has helped her fill things often enough, no?"

"You're insatiable," Katherine murmured. "You know I have a reputation to consider, yes? There are...expectations of a woman in my position. Decorum. One doesn't just talk about..." she cleared her throat and glanced hurriedly around. Where 'vinir' was a term of respect and affection, 'felgi' had an altogether more intimate meaning, and the Raudkhlo's flippancy with using it in public always put her on edge. "About such things in polite society."

But then she caught Torja's eye, and the side of her lip quirked up into a lopsided smile. "As much as I wish we could, at least."

"So. Go somewhere less polite." Katherine felt Torja's voice as much as she heard it, a rumble which seemed to fill her from head to toe. She bit her lip and glanced around, suddenly, terribly aware of just how many people surrounded them. How many were watching out the corner of their eye, eavesdropping on their whispered conversation for any hint of impropriety? Nothing she and Torja did was wrong - Katherine knew for a fact that affairs with the natives were endemic within the military ranks - but a Castellan and a soldier were held to different standards. 

More's the bloody pity, she thought. Hiding her relationship with the Raudkhlo was one of the hardest things Katherine had ever had to do. It wasn't just the sex - there was a vitality to him, an irrepressible, savage passion which made her feel like a young woman again. He brought out her humour and kept the worst of her bleak moods at bay, and there were times where it was hard not to simply throw her duty to the wind and flee with him into the wilds. 

This was one of them. Katherine realised she was shaking, the soft tickle of Torja's fur against her bare shoulder enough to drive her to madness. Her heart thumped in her chest. She could feel something - a hot tendril of desire, worming its way steadily into her core, eroding her defences with every moment. That was another thing the Raudkhlo had done - he had inflamed passions of her own, ones that had slumbered dormant for most of her life and now seemed determined to make up for lost time. Even in the most inappropriate of situations.

No, it wasn't just the sex. 

But the sex was very, very good. 

Katherine turned to hide her face from the crowd and chewed her lip, then reached a decision.

"There's a storage room a floor down. Take the north door, turn left, go down the stairs and follow the corridor. It's next to the statue of Lord Kensway. Go there and wait." She emphasised the word, meeting the Raudkhlo's gaze and holding it until he nodded. Then she glanced away, hiding the hot flush that had begun to creep across her cheeks. "It'll look suspicious if we leave together. I need to do another round, make sure I'm seen by the right people. I'll join you as soon as I can get away."

Torja's eyes lit up like lanterns. He stepped away and bowed his head in farewell, before stalking eagerly back into the crowd, his tail wagging eagerly as he went. 

Katherine let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and cursed herself silently. The idea had come to her out of the blue, as sudden as it was stupid - there wasn't a lock on the door, it was visited regularly by servants, the walls weren't nearly thin enough to keep out the sound. It would have been the work of moments to catch the Raudkhlo and tell him she'd changed her mind, but Katherine remained rooted to the spot, watching her felgi's furry grey head bobbing through the mess of bodies until he reached the north entrance and vanished from sight.

The next half hour passed in a tortured blur. Another round of dances began, drowning the endless, twittering conversation beneath the warbling strains of The Highland's Pride. Marius rejoined her for the second chorus and the two lurched through an awkward death-march before exchanging wearied looks and separating again. Katherine drifted from conversation to conversation, only half-listening to what was being said and reciting the same old empty platitudes she had learned in her youth, all the while trying to decide if the wrenching sensation in her stomach was anxiety, excitement, or something of both.

With each pass of the room she moved a little closer to the northernmost door. Finally she saw her chance. A chorus of scandalised - and, to a lesser extent, appreciative - cries went up as a Djusynir weather-witch too deep in her cups began to strip off her shimmering robe, complaining loudly about how she was choking in the dry surface air. With the guests' eyes elsewhere, Katherine quickly departed. 

She wasn't a quiet woman, nor one with much patience for sneaking around, so she didn't bother making the attempt. As soon as she left the room Katherine pulled herself up to her full height and strode authoritatively down the corridor. This was her fortress, after all. She could go where she wanted. Do whoever - whatever, she corrected herself - she liked. A handful of servants glanced up as she passed, but none moved to question or bar her way, and the corridor with Lord Kensway's statue was mercifully empty. With a quick glance back over her shoulder, Katherine took a breath and slipped into the dusty old storage room.

It was dark inside, with the only light creeping in through a small window set high in the opposite wall. Sheaths of blank parchment sat on a wooden rack, mouldering quietly away beneath a grey shroud of cobwebs, and the floor was cluttered with heavy chests and cargo crates left over from the original expeditionary ships. 

"Torja?" Katherine called softly. She slipped off her shoes, distantly wondering how the velvet footwear somehow pinched more than her old marching boots, and looked around. The stone floor was cold beneath her calloused toes, and she felt a brief shiver. "Torja, felgi, are you there?"

There was no answer. After a moment of silence, Katherine swore under her breath. Had someone spotted him? Forced him to go elsewhere? No. She shook her head. She knew Torja; he was too brash for something like that. If someone had challenged him about where he was or what he was doing, he was more likely to just bluntly admit the truth. So, what then? Had he got lost? The longer she waited, the more likely it was she would be missed, but...

A low, lusty growl shook her from her thoughts. She had just enough time to let out another unladylike curse before a pair of muscular arms around her chest and she felt an affectionate lick along her neck.

"Hrrn. Felgi Katherine is slipping. Didn't think to check behind the door." Torja rumbled in amusement. "Torja warned you, didn't he? You're getting soft."

One of his hands worked its way up Katherine's body, shamelessly cupping one of her heavy breasts and kneading it softly through her dress. The other travelled south, stroking once more down her spine before slipping eagerly beneath her skirt. Katherine hissed as she felt a long claw slide along her thigh and work its way under the band of her underwear. Hot breath washed over her bare shoulder. She could hear Torja panting softly and let out a low moan of her own, relaxing into the wolfman's embrace as he explored her body. 

"Maybe I've earned it," she murmured, biting her lip and thrusting her chest out. Torja squeezed harder in response, letting her feel the strength in his grip, the sharp points of his claws through the fabric. Something was poking into her lower back, and she laughed under her breath at the Raudkhlo's naked lust. "After all, you seem to be hard enough for us both, lover. Those are lace, by the way. I'd really rather you didn't - "

There was a soft ripping noise and a flush of cold air against her nethers as her undergarments tore away. Katherine didn't have to turn around to imagine the grin on Torja's face. He lifted the shred of fabric like a trophy, letting Katherine see how damp they had become, before flicking them away and nuzzling affectionately into the crook of her neck.

"Stupid things. You look better without them," he murmured. 

"Better without this as well?" Katherine flicked the hem of her dress, and Torja growled in wordless agreement. "Are you going to let me take it off, or do you want to ruin it as well?"

"Maybe felgi Katherine go back to party without it. Go as Raudkhlo queen would, bare of all but cloak, crown and paint. Show she has nothing but pride for herself, for what she is, eh? That she has nothing to hide." 

Katherine moaned again, the sound low and husky with need. Gods, but the idea appealed. It was insane. Impossible. But the idea of just walking back in there like some primal goddess, pierced and painted and heedless of what anyone might think of her...

She was wet. She was so wet. Her arousal had built, slowly, smouldering away in the pit of her stomach throughout that torturous final half-hour, leaving her tense and tingling with desire. Now it felt as though Torja had thrown pot of oil into the embers, coaxing them into sudden, spectacular fury. Katherine wriggled free of Torja's grip and turned, her tough, square-jawed face bright with passion. She stripped without another world, rolling the gown down her body and kicking it aside. 

And it felt right. Her muscled body shone in the pale light, shimmering under the thin sheen of sweat which clung to her pale skin, the old scars and freckles almost dancing across her statuesque form. Torja growled his appreciation and loped forwards, tight muscles rolling under his thick grey fur, his lupine cock already standing hard and proud from its sheath.

They didn't need to speak. That was the truth of it - they understood each other in a way few others would. They were both warriors, as much as Katherine's new duties tried to disguise, with a warrior's needs. Katherine sat atop one of the heavy boxes and spread her legs, letting out a rough gasp as the Raudkhlo surged between them and pushed against her sex. 

At first she had feared their lovemaking would be awkward, stilted - they were both used to partners significantly smaller and lighter than themselves, and it might have taken some adjustment to learn one another's rhythms. Thankfully, her worries had been misplaced. They came together as if made for it, Torja's thick, crimson shaft slipping easily between Katherine's lips and gliding into her tight passage until their bodies met with a soft slap. Clawed hands grasped her buttocks and pulled her closer, lifting and spreading her bulging thighs until her feet kicked almost level with the Raudkhlo's hairy shoulders. 

"Oh, fuck," Katherine half-gasped, half-snarled. He'd gone deep on the first push, almost hilting himself inside her, and she could feel his shaft throbbing and twitching in her core. It was followed by a second, and then a third, each stroke of the towering wolfman's hips drawing a surge of pleasure and a muffled cry from his partner's throat. Katherine's hands found their way to Torja's chest and stroked upwards, feeling the chorded muscle and old scars tight beneath his fur before tangling among his braids and pulling him close.

They had tried various positions over the months of their affair, but it really was better like this, Katherine thought. It wasn't just because she wasn't the youngest or most limber woman in the world, either. She wanted to see him, to feel him - Torja rose up between her legs like a tower of craggy grey stone and lavished her face and her neck with hot laps of his tongue, his yellow eyes shining in delight as he took in her naked body. It made her feel smaller, somehow. Prettier, more feminine. 

"This - this much better than - silly dance - " Torja grunted under his breath. "Next time, we go to - Raudkhlo revel, with - great feast, then great - "

Katherine's low moans rose an octave as the Raudklho began taking her faster. Each thrust seemed to reach a little further into her body, burning its way a little deeper into her core, bringing her a little closer to the release she craved. Fur tickled across her thighs and her belly and the tips of her nipples, the sensation dancing along her nerves, leaving her tight and desperate for the sweet relief of the wolfman's cock plunging into her silken passage.

"Great what?" She forced the words out between hiking breaths. Torja's lips were drawn back in a snarl of concentration, fangs glinting less than a hand span away from her face, eyes narrow with effort. "Tell - tell me what - what you're thinking, felgi."

At first there was nothing but a guttural rasp of effort. The tickle of fur against her thighs had been replaced with the hard, sinewy slap of the wolfman's knot, battering against her sex as his own pleasure began to peak. It was as if he was teasing her with it, giving her a taste of his girth before stealing it away, leaving her aching and desperate for the sweet, final rush of the tie. 

Don't have time for that, a voice whispered in the back of Katherine's head. Have to get back to the party. Can't let him tie me. But the thoughts came distantly, sliding from her pleasure-struck mind like water from an oilskin, finding only the most vague and reluctant purchase.

"Raudkhlo men - too many of us - three, four, five for each woman. They only take the best. Why we - we mate outside our - our kind so - "

"So well?" Katherine panted. Even speaking that much was an effort. Torja snorted a laugh, rewarding the compliment with an affectionate lick along her cheek and a deep grind against her sex.

"So often. But sometimes at - at great revels - they take all. All at once. Show they have stamina equal of our own, eh? One day, Torja invite - invite you as guest. Felgi Katherine certainly earned that honour. Earned right to - to Torja and - as many other warriors as she likes." 

Katherine remembered Torja mentioning something like that, once, on the day they had first made love. They had been teasing each other, and she had passed it off as a joke at the time. Now, though? Now she believed it. And, Gods, if this was what it felt like to mate with one of them - one who was smaller than most - what would it be like to be taken by a whole pack? 

It was that thought which tipped her over the edge. She came hard around Torja's prick, her legs thrashing and toes clenching in mid-air as the oncoming wave of ecstasy finally broke down her defences. And he just kept going - fucking her relentlessly, grinding his swollen knot against her entrance, nipping at her breasts and doing everything else he could think of to drive her to the very height of climax. All the while, the looming, grey-furred wolfman grunted and snarled, growling broken praise of how strong and beautiful she was, how good she looked, how good she felt...

Reality returned with a snap. "Torja - Torja, get off. Get off me a second, I want to - "

Torja growled desperately by way of reply. They forgot themselves, sometimes, in moments of love and battle alike, discarding thought and speech in favour of simple, berserk instinct. Katherine reached up and wrapped one of her strong hands around the Raudkhlo's muzzle, pulling his head level with hers and looking him in the eye. 

"We're swapping places. Torja, do you hear me? Do you understand? I want to try something."

At first there was no reply. For a moment Katherine thought he was lost to the rut, heedless of anything but the desperate need to release himself inside her. He bore down on her relentlessly, every fibre of the Raudkhlo's body vibrating with tension, desperate for release. Finally he shook his head and let out a thin whine as he withdrew from Katherine's muscular body.

"Is something wrong? Was Torja not - "

"Oh, shush," Katherine waved his complaints away, rising on wobbly legs and pushing the wolfman back onto the crate. "You were fine. Better than fine. I just want to, you know." She cleared her throat, feeling her face reddening as she got the words in order. "Try, um. Using my mouth." 

Understanding dawned in the Raudkhlo's golden eyes, his ears pricking up in excitement. "Ah! Yes, Torja understands! He wondered why Felgi Katherine had not tried this before." 

"Because I haven't done it in bloody ages," she muttered, wincing as she lowered herself onto her knees before him. Torja leaned back and obligingly spread his legs, his tail eagerly flicking back and forth as Katherine shuffled forwards and wrapped her hands around the base of his cock. The sight of the thing always took her breath away; it was wholly lupine in form, long and thick and smooth, tapered into a fine point at the tip and swollen into a knot the size of her fist at the base. It had taken her a few goes to get used to the size of it. How the Raudkhlo women, most of whom were only slightly taller than a human, managed was beyond her. 

Magic, probably, she thought distantly. Everything in Fornhiem seemed to come down to magic. Torja's prick jumped in her hand, surging against her fingers and dribbling a thin trail of slippery precome as she pulled it towards her lips.

When was the last time she had done this? Ten years ago, maybe, and she had been drunk at the time. Katherine wracked her brains, trying to dredge up the last clear memories she had of going down on a man. Maybe another half-decade ago, when she had still been a young woman. There had been silken warmth between her lips, the scratch of hair against her nose, a heady rush of bitterness in her mouth. Since then there had been nothing but a few lusty daydreams and a rather embarrassing practice session upon an oddly-shaped vegetable she had taken from the fortress kitchens.

Somehow, that hadn't quite prepared her for the reality of having Torja's cock sticking in her face, hot and red and dripping with precome. Slowly, cautiously, as though she expected the thing to bite her, Katherine leaned in and ran her tongue along the Raudkhlo's shaft. He let out a soft rumble of pleasure and she licked again, more confidently this time, working her way up towards his crown and circling the narrow tip before taking the whole thing into her mouth.

It was saltier than she had expected. Less bitter, with a sharp tang that she awkwardly realised was the taste of her own arousal clinging to the wolfman's prick. Torja sighed again and ran his claws through her hair, content to simply sit back and enjoy himself as Katherine slid inch after in down his shaft, sucking gently and playing her tongue over the burning, throbbing, aching thing in her mouth. Precome dribbled and spurted; she felt it dripping on the back of her tongue and down her throat, forcing her to swallow, spreading the taste of him across her palette. 

And it was good. It felt good, to simply give pleasure without expecting anything in return. Katherine shuffled closer and moaned softly around Torja's cock, wrapping her fingers around his knot and squeezing the hard ball of flesh in time with her gentle sucking. The scent of him was everywhere, so thick and heady that it made her head spin and her loins ache, and she found her free hand wandering along the Raudkhlo's thigh to cup his swollen balls. They almost seemed to be throbbing in her palm, and for a moment Katherine imagined them bubbling, seething with the amount of hot, animal seed waiting to be unleashed. 

Katherine popped off his cock, stroking it with her free hand as she gazed up the length of Torja's hulking body. The Raudkhlo had gone slack with pleasure. One massive hand still cradled her head, but the other hung limply at his side as chest expanded and contracted like a pair of bellows. His head had rolled back, his eyes clouded and vacant, his tongue lolling from his mouth like a drunk.

"That great, hmm?" Katherine raised an eyebrow, idly stroking Torja's cock until he looked down at her. She shot him a lopsided smile and licked a thick bead of precome from his tip. "I must not be as out of practice as I thought."

"Aaaaaaahhhh. Yes. Good. Felgi Katherine very good. Torja always enjoy tongue-worship. Good way to relax. Once had two Geithrnjota, let them share, one either side." The Raudkhlo stroked his claws lovingly down Katherine's face. "This better. Torja not...not last much longer, though."

"Shame you didn't get to use this," Katherine murmured. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Torja's knot. His cock throbbed again and she felt a wet drip of something land on her forehead. "But I really want to feel you. On me."

That brought an amused chuckle from the wolfman's throat. "Hah. In that case, Torja not think felgi Katherine in fit state to go back to party. Not unless she wants to be seen painted head to toe, eh?" He leaned forwards, his eyes flashing hungrily down at her. "But Torja think Katherine would look magnificent like that. Show how proud she is of her felgi, to wear his seed before her peers." 

Katherine bit her lip, a thrill of pleasure coursing down her spine at the idea. "I'll work something out. Though..." she kissed Torja's knot again, feathering the turgid, veiny thing with adoring pecks. "If I'm going to be that badly wrecked, do you think you'll have another in you?" She glanced up, a sly look on her face. "If I'm not going back any time soon, maybe we'll be able this thing to good use after all."

Torja's eyes lit up with delight. He stood, pushing Katherine back onto her haunches and tugging at his cock. The thing jerked in his grip, weeping beads of pearly liquid that splashed against her thighs like drops of hot wax. "Torja will try. Be ready, felgi, I cannot hold much - "

Whatever the Raudkhlo intended to say dissolved into a long, rasping sigh of release. Katherine had just enough time to rise up onto her knees, tip her head back and push her breasts together before he came. And came, and came, and came - a little thinner than a man's but so much hotter, salty where it fell upon her lips and rich with the wolfman's feral potency. Long streaks of it splashed over her forehead and into her hair, dripping down either side of her nose and running across her cheeks as he moved south, ejaculating into her mouth, across her chin, into the expanse of freckled cleavage Katherine had so obligingly offered up to him. 

She was laughing the whole time - snorting and giggling like a schoolgirl, peeking out from underneath long eyelashes as the Raudkhlo's burning seed rained down on her from above. Because it was funny - here she was, the grim, humourless Castellan of a grim, humourless fortress, sitting on her knees as she was painted head to toe with come. It was all so silly, so wildly out of character, there was nothing she could do but laugh - and, as the Raudkhlo's emissions finally begin to slow, lean forwards to wrap her lips around his crown and drink the last of him from the tap. 

For a moment the silence was broken only by Torja's heavy breathing and the soft gluck-gluck-gluck as Katherine swallowed, before releasing him to flop back down onto the crate. She took a breath, carefully wiped her eyes, and laughed incredulously as she looked down at herself.

"Gods above, you really weren't lying, were you?" Katherine rose slowly. Her skin still burned and tingled where Torja's seed had landed. It trickled down her body in slippery runnels, flowing between her muscles and dripping from the proud swell of her chest. It trailed across her rigid abdominals and clung to her biceps, outlining her heroic form like a statue darkened by rain. She drew a hand through the streaks on her chest and held it up, admiring the way it glistened on her fingers before licking them clean. "I hope there's something in here we can use as a towel."

"Bah. Torja will go forth and find you one, if need be. Tell me, though." Torja leaned back, his cock still half-hard and draped against his belly. "Your life-partner. Marius. If he ever learned..."

Katherine frowned for a moment, wondering what the Raudkhlo could mean, then snorted and waved dismissively. "What, Marius? Torja, Marius knows. He's one of the few people who does, outside of rumour and hearsay. You remember how I said there are expectations of people in my position?"

Torja nodded. Katherine stretched and rolled her shoulders. "Part of that is we don't usually marry for love. We marry whoever has the most money, or the best connections, or who our parents are trying to make an alliance with, and have to hope he isn't a colossal bastard after the fact. Love...love comes on the side." She gave Torja a pointed look. "I know for a fact that Marius is having an affair with one of the maids. It's just the done thing."

Torja frowned, chewing things over. Human politics were a source of endless frustration for most Raudkhlo, something for whch Katherine could hardly blame them. Eventually he shrugged. "Bah. Raudkhlo way better. Simpler. Torja not understand how felgi Katherine come from that snake-pit. Too honest for them. More like Raudkhlo in here, eh?"

He banged a hand against his heart. Katherine accepted the compliment with a small smile and a tilt of the head. "They're not that bad. Well. A lot of them are, but I think things are changing."

She stepped forwards, straddling Torja and placing her hands on his shoulders. The Raudkhlo looked up, his ears pricking eagerly as Katherine leaned forwards to kiss his nose. "But I came here to get away from that nonsense. Now." She stroked the side of his head, running her fingers through his braided hair. "I'm going to sit in your lap, and then I want you to tie me so hard I can't see straight. Do you think you can manage that, felgi?"

"Hrr. Torja do better. Torja leave felgi Katherine seeing stars for days."

Something twitched against her leg as Torja's cock rose once more, hot and red and glistening. This time, Katherine knew, there would be no interruptions, no hesitation - nothing stopping her from taking every inch of the wolfman's swollen, knotted prick and riding him until they were both sated. She hissed as it brushed over her entrance, then moaned in raw, unadulterated ecstasy as Torja's hands found their way to her hips and pulled her down onto him. It went on and on, inch after inch of the bloated, crimson thing sliding into the woman's aching sex, until her lips finally came to rest upon the veiny surface of his knot.

"Almost there," Katherine leaned forwards, murmuring the words in Torja's ear as her steely arms moved to circle his torso. Fur tickled over her breasts, soft and warm and inviting, and she felt the Raudkhlo's powerful heartbeat thunder in time with her own. Claws nipped at her backside and her clit sang with pleasure as she began to sweep her hips back and forth, grinding down on the dense, fist-sized lump of sinew at her entrance. At first there was nothing, just the sweet haze of friction and the occasional jerk as Torja sought to thrust up into her embrace. But then, slowly, ever so slowly, Katherine felt herself stretching.

Their first few times together had been almost painful - certainly the experience of being knotted for the first time had caught her off-guard. Now, though, it was something she savoured. Every motion of her hips forced her lips open a little wider; every heartbeat permitted another fraction of the thing entrance to her aching body. It felt as though her whole body was being drawn as tight as her sex. She strained with tension, shaking and digging her fingers into Torja's fur for purchase, her breath coming in short, panting gasps as more and more of the Raudhklo's cock slipped into her passage.

"Oh, Gods. Almost, almost", she whispered. Torja replied with a low growl; she could feel every inch of him pressing against her insides, rubbing over every secret place she had, hot pulses of precome lapping against her walls and easing his progress. She twitched, fluttered, and then - 

Stars exploded behind her eyes as she passed the halfway point and the rest of Torja's knot slipped suddenly in. The last inch hit her like a blow from a warhammer, driving the air from her lungs and the thoughts from her skull. The sensation was beyond description - rough and sinewy, stretching and pushing tight against her most sensitive spots, packing her so full of burning, throbbing meat that it felt as though she couldn't breathe. And all the while his tip had burrowed into her very depths, filling every tiny place there was to fill. 

She was his, moulded and reshaped for his pleasure. And he was hers, trapped and helpless within a silken vice that hugged tight and refused to let go. Katherine came again then, shuddering and jerking around his knot as it came to rest just past the seal of her lips, straining against Torja's steely body before falling slack. With a low sigh of relief she leaned back and dragged hand over her muscled belly, tracing where she imagined Torja's cock might be inside her. Probably level with her lungs, she thought wryly. At the very least, he'd gotten her heart.

"Mm. The day that stops feeling good is the day I take a short walk of the north tower," Katherine's hand travelled south, two calloused fingers rubbing indulgent circles around her clit. Torja's cock twitched deep in her core, and the grinned at the sensation of it, aching and hard inside her. 

"And Torja would follow. Hrn. Going to be here a while, I think." 

They began to move together; Katherine grinding, Torja thrusting, making the most of the small motions their tie would allow. Torja lapped at the mighty swell of Katherine's breasts, heedless of the cooling seed still clinging to them as his rough tongue dragged sensually over her nipples. In turn she stroked his arms and rubbed his ears, letting her hands play over hard muscles and old scars, coaxing one another on to their final climaxes. It was quiet, intimate - the final act of two lovers, their passions all but spent, happy now to relax in one another's arms. Kissing would always be difficult for them - the shape of Torja's mouth wasn't conductive towards it - but they tried anyway, pushing their mouths together and letting their tongues dance as they surged and clenched and peaked.

Torja came first. He let out a soft, thin noise and then suddenly Katherine could feel him pouring into her, hot slick and perfect against her walls. That tipped her into her third climax; a small thing compared to the other two, marked by a sudden hitch of breath and a trembling cry. Katherine gave one last shudder before falling slack, lying atop her lover with a smile of contentment on her face.

"You're still going," she murmured, dragging a hand idly across Torja's chest. Spurts of come were still lapping against her walls. A few drips seeped slowly from the point of their union, tinging against her flushed sex as they trickled down her legs. "How do you do that? Is it something you eat?"

"Raudkhlo blessed in many, many ways." Torja sighed happily. "Aaaah. Torja right. Going to be here very long while. Felgi Katherine think she will be missed?"

"Probably," Katherine replied. "But I really don't care."

\---

It took almost twenty minutes before Torja's knot had shrunk enough to come free. A glut of thin seed came with it, dripping forth in long, pearly strings as Katherine worked the cramp out of her legs. They salvaged a bale of rough sackcloth from the back of the store-room to wipe themselves down, but flushed, sweaty and - in Katherine's case - smelling rather strongly of wolf, it was almost another hour before she felt confident about returning to the dance.

When she did so it was in a new dress, with her hair brushed and tied simply back. The dance had concluded and many of the guests had retired for the night, but enough remained for Katherine to slip back in without drawing too many strange looks. Marius caught her by the refreshment table as she picked through the remaining scraps and offcuts and loaded up a plate with whatever she could salvage.

"You've been gone almost two hours, where have you been?" he asked, giving his wife an exasperated look. "People have been asking questions!"

"Mm. Yes. Funny story." Katherine swallowed and wiped her mouth with as much decorum as she could muster. "I stepped out for some air and ran into one of the ladies from the washrooms - her child had gone wandering and found themselves lost. Rather than raise the guards, I thought it would look good if I stepped in myself. Turns out he'd got up onto the high shelves of those big pantries down by the kitchens, and was too scared to climb back down."

She shrugged. "Little so-and-so upended an urn of milk over my head before I got him back on the ground, so I had to wash and change. Still, you seem to have held the fort admirably enough without me."

Marius raised an eyebrow. Katherine could tell he was trying not to laugh. "And that's the official story, is it?"

"Absolutely. I am the Castellan, after all, and my word is law."

"Well then. I'm glad everything worked out." They linked arms and turned away from the table, slowly meandering back towards the thinning crowd. Marius shot her a sideways look, the corner of his mouth still quirking up in amusement. "Did you at least have fun?"

Katherine cleared her throat and looked away, staring resolutely off into the middle distance. 

"Oh, absolutely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written September 2020.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written December 2019.


End file.
